


Trickster

by brotherfuckers



Series: Striderclan [83]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: Aftercare, Anal Play, Bad Dragon, Clubbing, Drug Use, Emetophobia, Fluff, M/M, Masturbation, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Non-Consensual Touching, Sex Toys, Sick Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-27
Updated: 2014-03-27
Packaged: 2018-01-17 06:17:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,671
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1376965
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brotherfuckers/pseuds/brotherfuckers
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Someone slips something into a woman's drink at a bar and D ends up switching drinks with her and takes it instead. And the drug produces an extreme reaction in him that Bro has to handle as best he can once he gets D back to the apartment.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Trickster

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings: This contains non-consensual drug use. The drug is a mix of stuff that causes D to have an extremely high libido. Accuracy is questionable but please avoid if you have any drug or date rape triggers. Mentions of sexual assault as D gets grabby (Bro gets him under control before it gets too bad). Bro is going to handle the situation the best he can, which is to say not perfectly (like taking him to the hospital) but not as badly as you'd think. Also include throwing up with D being sick and pitiful and miserable.

D is swaying on his feet, letting the beat crash over him in waves and soak into his bones. The club is so alive tonight with the music thrumming through everyone’s veins and the bright lights scattering over sweat shined skin in the sea of dancers. There is a perfect balance between conversation and music at the edges of the room. The bars are turning over drinks almost faster than they can handle, but from how the tip jar is overflowing, no one seems to mind.

D’s glad that Bro dragged him out tonight to enjoy the new mix that he put together in the proper scene. And this relaxed scene is such a relief after having to suffer all of the stuck up clubs out in Hollywood where even the well drinks could cost you twenty and a specialty somewhere around a hundred. Going out is never cheap, but this place is at least modest and the crowd apparently appreciates that.

D disengages himself from the dance floor, feeling trailing fingers across his torso from hopeful partners who want a piece of his sweet moves. He flashes them a smile that might be a promise to come back and dance with them later if the circumstances fall favorable. He’s finally relinquished at the bar where he almost ends up wearing the drink of a woman just past tipsy. He manages to dodge around her to take her spot at the bar.

Slightly out of breath he orders a drink. It’s a little bit fancy (aka girly), but it’s the bar’s special and it’s damn good. D hears another woman next to him order the same. He glances out to the club while he waits, taking in the ambiance. He sees Bro up in the DJ booth with his ridiculous shades and douchey white polo with the uber douchey popped collar. Bro looks up and they trade nods before Bro returns his attention to the turntables under his gloved hands. D likes watching him work, getting into the music but only showing it with the bob of his head. He snickers to himself as he recognizes some of Dirk’s mixes.

There is a loud noise next to D on the side of the woman who ordered the same as him. He has a split second to turn and catch the woman as she stumbles into him with a force a little more than just tripping.

“Hey watch it you asshole! What do you think you are doing?” she snaps at her assailant.

“It’s alright, I got you.” D pays close attention to where his hands are as he helps her stand upright again in her four inch heels. A man’s arm stretches out across the bar where she was standing.

“That’s my drink! Order your own, you pig.”

“Oh, sorry missy, let me cover that for you,” the random guy pulls his arm back and reaches out to help stabilize the girl as well, touching her a lot more than D. As soon as they pull away from D, he notices that there are two nearly neon green drinks on the bar. “Seriously your drink is on me.”

“The least you could do,” she replies snidely as she snatches up the drink closest to D. D’s about to say something about that being his, but then just shrugs it off as ‘hers’ is just a couple inches farther down. They just ended up trading identical drinks, so they’re even. Plus it would be hard to explain with such a noise level without seeming like a creeper, like D gets a feeling her potential suitor is.

Shrugging off the incident and trying to ignore the dude’s terrible desperate come ons, D goes ahead and closes out his tab as he recognizes Bro’s closing set, tipping the bartenders well because he can. He takes a sip of his drink, the fruity flavors covering any hint of alcohol. If he didn’t have a decent buzz going from previous glasses, he would have thought that they were scamming him. He drinks about half of it quickly (the taste is a bit off but it’s the end of the night, the bartender must have switched an ingredient) and then slips back into the masses.

The music grips D’s hips again and he moves with all of the bodies surrounding him he sips carefully at his drink, careful not to spill it as the lights swirl about him and the beat start to dance on his skin. He feels so hot, beads of sweat trickling down the back of his shirt, making the fabric cling to him. He’s tempted to strip it off but then gets distracted by the perfume of a pretty girl that flits by through the crowd. It’s so sweet and inviting but she slips away from his fingertips and he takes another drink in consolation. Everyone smells good. It smells like fruit and alcohol and flowers and beer and sweat and sex and he just feels so hot and his pants are getting tighter as people press in on him. He should take those off as well, but he’s hand is still holding that drink so he finishes it off and somehow the glass disappears but now his hands are full with a pair of swinging hips and damn that feels good. But then the hips are pulling away and D is reaching out for them but they aren’t coming back and he grabs and catches a wrist pulling someone close but they are pulling away too and he stumbling after them and he frowns because he needs someone to touch him but they are all running away and he’s just too hot, he need cool hands touching him, he needs something wrapped around him, around his cock, in him, god he needs something anything now now no-

He’s grabbed suddenly and pinned. He can’t move. He can’t really see either through the haze. Though he recognizes the smell of home. And the thick arms holding him tight. And golden hair tickling his nose.

“Bro?” It isn’t a question of recognition. He’d be able to pick Bro out of any crowd. He’d be able to find any of his family is in a second. Instead, his voice is full of uncertainty as he clings to Bro as an anchor through the heat he feels swamped in. “Bro? Something’s not right. I need- I need- fuck. I need to fuck.”

* * *

Damn, tonight is a good night. The club is reactive to every track Bro lays down. The drinks are flowing and people are flooding in. According to the waitress assigned to bringing him water, the line is nearly twice wrapped around the building. He’s going to get a big tip from the owner tonight. Maybe he’ll spend it on D who was sport enough to come with. He doesn’t get to go out with D a lot with his older brother being in Hollywood so often, but tonight is a good chance to show him a good time and get his mind off of things out there.

Bro can see D moving out there, dancing freely and having a good time. Then he ducks away to the bar for another drink and Bro makes a decision to wrap it up for the night. Not that he would mind going all night but apparently the human mind gets hallucinations if they don’t get enough sleep. At least that’s what Dave tells him.

Bro’s halfway through his final set when he sees D out on the dance floor again. But something’s different. Bro can’t put his finger on it, but he lets his mind go through the music automatically as he watches closer. He cringes as D nearly spills his drink on someone and grimaces when D spills the drink on himself when he misses his lips. What the hell? D gets drunk but this is a bit much.

And a bit sudden.

Bro frowns as he watches as D gets grabby with some of the dancers around him, disrupting the flow of the area. D grinds up on people, men and women with an abandon that Bro doesn’t like. He knows that D gets a little horny when he drinks, but he always has some semblance of control. This is totally out of control. Like way beyond. Like dangerously.

Thankfully he’s not pursuing anyone too heavily. Yet. As soon as the girls (or a couple guys) get away he moves on instead of incurring the wrath of an upset boyfriend or worse a well deserved bitch slap.

_Just hang on,_ D, Bro thinks to himself. _Just a couple minutes more._

As soon as he finishes his set and flips to the house set, he’s flashstepping out, forgoing a final announcement. D’s getting worse and it’s not just the drink. He’s getting pretty damn close to sexually assaulting those dancers and that’s just not appropriate no matter what the fuck is wrong with him. Bro feels anger bubbling up inside of him at D’s actions, and uses that to propel him forward.  Bro’s wide shoulders and sharp intent get him through the crowd quickly and soon he’s in front of D. With a murmur of apologies, he helps pull a hapless girl out of his grasp and steps up close.

“What the hell, D?” he half shouts, half growls into D’s face as best he can without drawing attention. But D doesn’t answer, clawing at his shirt instead and wow that’s a grope and not appropriate for the club even if anyone doesn’t know they are brothers. Bro manages to restrain from decking his brother right there, but still decides enough is enough and wraps his arms tightly around D’s, holding him close. It’s a bit awkward to do in the middle of the club but apparently effective.

“Bro?”

“Got something to say to me, ya piece of shit?”

“Bro? Something’s not right.”

“No shit, Sherlock.”

“I need- I need- fuck. I need to fuck.”

“Oh hell no. We are getting home. Now.” Bro starts dragging him off of the dancefloor, trying not to run anyone over while at the same time, trying to keep D’s hands as far away from his crotch, which he seems driven to. The owner meets him near the exit and they exchange a couple quick words about family emergency and picking his shit up tomorrow and the owner just waves him off with promises to keep it safe and well wishes. Bro keeps D close and makes an executive decision to take a cab home instead of his car. There was no certain way to make sure D would keep his hands to himself especially as Bro hears the whimpering noises D is making once they clear the loudness of inside.

Bro tips the cab driver extra for having to put up with the sick incest grope show going on in his backseat. But eventually Bro did pin D effectively where the only thing D could do was that odd whine coming from the back of his throat. Bro plays it off as too many drinks and a bad trip (“How high do you have to be?”) which gets him thinking that maybe that excuse isn’t too far from the truth. Was D slipped something at the club? But then again, what the hell kind of drug causes this behavior.

It’s a goddamn struggle to get D up all of the stairs with his limbs being either awkwardly stumbly or reaching out for Bro every two seconds, but Bro is in great relief when they do make it to the apartment and get the door locked behind them. Only then does he allow himself to let down his guard and let D all up in his grill. He’s shoved back against the wall and D’s lips are on his in a second, but his hands are even faster, gripping and tugging and rubbing at Bro’s crotch which is starting to twitch with interest. D’s mouth is still sweet with the last bit of the drink but has an off tang to it that Bro can’t identify. Somewhere in the back of his head, Bro makes the connection between his previous drug theory and the taste.

Bro shoves D off of him and wipes his mouth, hoping that none actually transferred.

“Broooo! Whyyyy? I need you. I need it. So hot. Too hot. Burning...” D starts clawing at his own clothes, ripping off buttons and not caring about their quality. Bro finds himself staring at his very erect, almost swollen cock bobbing between his legs. It’s bright red and glistening with precum and Bro gets the twinging of desire to swallow it down because it looks so damn delicious and it’s just what he needs and wow he’s feeling hot too-

“Shit,” Bro swears harshly, breaking out of the circling haze of thoughts. Whatever it was worked fast to already have hit his system.

“Broooo!” D is now touching himself while trying to stumble over to his brother. He’s a fucking mess. Bro is actually kinda glad that D got the spiked drink instead of some poor girl, but at the same time he’s going to be the one dealing with this. There are a couple ways that he could handle it, but few that would keep him from being too skeevy even with his brother. “I need- I need- Fuck me please!” Though the begging isn’t helping to keep his mind clear as it mixes with the drug fueled desire building up in his core. He needs to act now.

“Get on the futon,” Bro’s voice comes out as  growl, lower than he expected but it does the trick as his nude brother scrambles to comply. And damn he looks so good on his back against the orange fabric with his legs spread wantonly. Even his mouth is open and panting and a bit of drool is on his chin. He looks like sex.

Bro curls his hands into fists, letting his nails bite his palms and keep his grounded as he walks over to the chest tucked under his desk. He tries not to listen to the moans D lets out and instead focuses on the metal on metal sound of the chain between the leather cuffs he pulls out. Quickly and before D can react, he flashes to the head of the futon and clips one cuff around one of D’s wrists, but D gets wise before he gets the second so Bro has to settle for clipping the other to the futon’s frame before stepping away.

“Noooooo! Fuck! No! Bro! God- Fuck! Please! Please fuck me! I need you! So hot! So hot it hurts! I hate you, Bro! Please! Please fuck me! I hate you!” Bro tells himself that it’s the drugs in his system talking and that D will thank him later but it’s still actually kinda painful to watch his brother writhe on the couch screaming and cursing like that. Both painful to his heart and to his dick which is rock solid and constricted in his jeans. He can only imagine how D feels. “DERRRRRRRRIIIIIIICK! I NEED SOMETHING! PLEASE!”

“Out of the question. I’m not doin’ the do with ya while you’re like this, babe. Ain’t right. Sorry,” Bro explains, a little bit terrified of how flushed and strung out D is. It’s helping to keep him level, but he hates the idea of what could have happened if Bro hadn’t been at the club to take him home. He could have been so easily taken advantage of if the cops hadn’t come to throw him in jail for trying to relieve himself on someone else. And then the scene in the jail- Nope not thinking about that. Too far. Bro shakes his head. He just needs to handle what’s in front of him now.

D’s panting is getting heavier and his squirming doesn’t seem to be relieving anything. “Please, Bro,” he sounds so pitiful, “please, can you at least bring me something to fuck myself on then? I need... Fuck...”

Bro’s body reacts with painful glee to the suggestion so once again Bro can only imagine how D feels. He contemplates it for a moment and then, “Yes...” Bro turns away from the futon and back over to the box of sex items. “I ain’t givin’ ya Dirk’s horse dildo though, ‘cause right now ya’d probably split yourself open and not even realize it,” Bro murmurs to himself.

“That one! I want that one!” Apparently D still managed to hear him. “Big, large, filling me up; that’s what I need!”

“Jesus fuck no.”

“Biggest best dick in the apartment!”

“Lemme look for somethin’, will ya?” Bro snaps back, feeling more irritable than he should... fuck, it’s going to be a painful crash when D comes down if Bro’s already feeling like this. He’s about to yell at D again for more whiny pathetic moans when his hand curls around a rubber shape. He pulls it out with a soft triumphant sound.

The [object](http://bad-dragon.com/products/tongue) Bro is holding seems impossibly perfect to D's heated gaze. It is nearly a foot long with a large base in the dark red color of his own eyes that encompasses a projection that goes out at least 7 or 8 inches, tapering from a thick, slightly flattened start at the base to a soft point that ends in the bright red color Dave favors. It seems like a smooth and sucker-less tentacle. One side appears very smooth with a groove down the middle while the back is softly ribbed…it reminds him of a tongue. With another look at the base he realizes the detailing is made to appear as a snout and the long gently S-curved silicone is the tongue of some magical completely mouth-watering (pun intended) beast.

D's own mouth waters at the thought of it going inside him. He wants the strange shape and he wants it _now_. “Oh god, please!” D spreads his legs even further, even throwing one up on the back of the futon.

“Hold your horses, goddamnit,” Bro curses as he crosses the room with both the dildo and a bottle of lube. D curses back at him when he passes the futon and goes to the kitchen, but Bro ignores him in favor of filling up a large glass of water. He also grabs a bottle of gatorade as well and then brings all four items back to D.

D however is only interested in the dildo, reaching out for it with his free hand. Bro hands him the glass of water instead and gets a fantastic glower.

“Ya ain’t gettin’ this nice lube to open yourself up with ‘til ya drink that,” Bro bribes, watching D’s eyes flicker between the glass of water and the bottle of lube swinging from his fingertips. D manages to sit up enough to start drinking. After the first couple cautious sips, D starts drinking like he’s a dying man out in a desert which Bro considers a good thing. If Bro stays careful then the chances of D surviving this go up. Bro wonders if this is a normal reaction or an extreme reaction to the drug. He’s heard so many stories of first trips going bad, so the fear stays with him. It’s one of the reasons Bro abhors the idea of drugs so much. He can’t predict how they will ever react to him. Sometimes even prescriptions produce weird side effects in their family.

“Bro, please!” D gasps out through the last sip of the water. Bro quickly switches out the glass with the bottle of lube. D lets out a growl as he fights one handed with the lid before he finally gets it open. Bro rolls his eyes at the prospect of cleaning up the futon from the pool of lube that D pours onto his fingers and between his legs. There is a distinct sigh of relief as D’s fingers press into himself. Bro thinks he’s going a little faster than he should when he shoves in two fingers to start with, definitely faster than normal. But as he watches D carefully, he doesn’t see a hint of pain on his blissed out face. Apparently he’s aroused enough to stay relaxed through the whole ordeal. D is soon using three fingers, stretching himself out with the dildo in mind. Bro’s taken with how they slide slickly in and out, as they curl inside his body, as D arches up off the futon when they obviously brush over that certain spot. D’s pinky slides in with the rest of them as his legs get impossibly wider, one leg up in the air and the other on the ground on the other side of the futon.

If it had been under any other circumstance, Bro would be right there in between his legs taking him as hard as he wants, as hard as he begs. Instead Bro swallows down both his ego and arousal and waves the hentai tongue dildo in front of D’s face to get his attention again.

“Please, Bro, give it to me, I need it inside me, I need it so bad, I hurt and it’ll fix me, god please, please let me just shove it in, I can take it, I need it. Please, Bro, please! It’s so huge and perfect and I need to be filled. My body is so hot! Please, Bro!”

“Ya can have the tentadick when ya drink the gatorade,” Bro passes it forward after cracking it open, “and that don’t count if ya spill half of it down your chest, D.”

Immediately D becomes super careful about how he holds the plastic bottle with his slippery hand and once again drinks it down like a fish out of water. The obedience to Bro’s commands is a bit unconcerting. It’s more than just bribing should incur. Once again Bro finds himself thanking every guardian angel and all the powers that be that he was the one to take D home.

“Now? Please?” D picks up on his begging as soon as the gatorade is done.

“Yeah, lemme get it ready though.” Bro scoops up the remaining bit of lube, wondering if the futon would even be salvageable with how much D used, and starts slicking up the tongue. Bro drags it out, thoroughly covering the large toy with lube and stroking it more than necessary. D actually has to lick his lips to catch the bit of drool trying to escape. He whines as his body aches with how much he wants to ride it.

“Please, Derrick.”

“Ya gotta be careful with it now,” Bro says softly as he passes the toy over. He hopes that this will help, at least hold D over until the drug passes through his system.

D immediately brings the tip to his entrance and slides it in. The sigh of relief sounds heavenly as he continues to push/pull on the base. He doesn’t go blindly at it and shove it in too fast like Bro was half expecting. He works it slow and steadily in, letting the gradual widening fill him up where he had stretched himself out with his fingers and then some. The back and forth curve of the tongue touches him just right inside as it presses in farther than his fingers reached. The bright to dark gradient disappears into the ring of flesh that flushes and reddens as well until the molded snout of the base touches it. And then D pulls it out just as carefully with soft whimpers only to start the whole process again.

It’s mesmerizing to Bro to watch the toy slide in and out of his brother. D’s hips undulate with the shape of the tongue and he lets out a sweet keen every time he is filled completely. It’s such a dramatic change from the hateful pleading D was spouting off earlier. Again it’s both arousing and terrifying to see D’s behavior so far from the norm because of the drug.

Bro has to excuse himself from the scene before he does something enticingly stupid. He goes to the kitchen and refill the glass of water, draining it once himself to wash out the remaining vestiges of the drink passed through the kiss. He stands at the sink and grips the edges of the counter tightly until his knuckles are white as he tries not to stare at the writhing going on on the other side of the futon. Having the back up helps but then D arches up and clears the top. Bro turns around and lets out a shuddering breath. He distracts himself from the moans and gasps that get faster and louder but running through the little bit of first aid training that he has, scraping up anything about drug overdose and recovery. The idea of a hospital flits through his head and Bro facepalms. Well, if D is still in trouble after this... phase, then Bro will take him to the nearest emergency room. But fuck if Bro’s going to take him in this hyped up sexual state.

Liquids is at the top of the list to help D flush the drugs out of his system because he’s going to go through shakes and feel nauseous and not to mention the irritability that Bro already had a taste of times tenfold at least. Maybe D will have exhausted himself and sleep through that. One can only hope. And Bro can only hope soon based on the sounds he hears behind him.  

Just as he thinks that the sounds cut off and Bro looks over his shoulder in a panic but then just sees D’s cock twitching with white pearls of cum spilling from the tip. Bro prays to the same guardian angels that helped him the first time that this ordeal is over as he gingerly walks over to his brother. D’s chest is heaving and sound returns as soft whimpers as his body twitches with the remnants of his orgasm. A pretty fucking powerful one based on how far the cum has splattered up his torso. The toy is still buried deep inside of him, up to the snout, but D’s hand is splayed out on the futon as if trying to ground himself again.

Bro carefully pulls the tongue out and sets the toy to the side. He flashsteps to the bathroom to grab and wet a washcloth before returning to clean up his brother. Even through the towel, Bro can feel how hot D’s skin is. And based on the continued whimpers and moans, how sensitive. Bro undoes the cuff from his wrist and rubs the sore skin from where D had been pulling against it.

Bro’s just about done with the first round of aftercare when the shakes start and D’s sounds turn from satisfied to unhappy. Bro flashes quickly again to grab a fresh washcloth and the prepared water before coming back. D leans into his touch as Bro gently sits him up and tips the water to his lips. He dutifully starts to drink as Bro coos at him with gentle directions and praises. Bro gentle pulls D into his lap, his long limbs gangly but manageable especially as D curls up in a somewhat fetal position in his lap. Bro’s jeans will be as ruined as the futon’s cover with how much lube is dripping from between his legs, but Bro couldn’t care less. He just tucks his brother against his chest and rubs at his back comfortingly as D rocks lightly back and forth. Bro holds the damp washcloth to his forehead and back of the neck until it gets too warm, and then he shakes it out and lets the air cool it off before reapplying.

“Bro... I feel terrible,” D’s voice is shaky and hoarse, which doesn’t surprise Bro at all with what trauma he just went though (and the volume of his moans).

“I know, D, I know. I got ya.” Bro tries to soothe him through the shivers, wishing he had remembered to grab a blanket beforehand.

“I feel sick.”

“Yeah, duh. You’ve been on a trip... wait. D’ya mean like sick like ill or sick like gonna be-”

“Sick sick. Dizzy. Don’t wanna move. But need to get to...”

Bro almost turns as green as D is in sympathy. “Shit. Shit. Uh... Hold tight?” Bro carefully moves his arms underneath D in an attempt to pick him up. D scrunches his eyes closed and grips Bro’s shirt. Bro takes a deep breath and then stands up with D in his arms, trying not to jostle him too much, but even that little bit tries to trigger D’s gag reflex. “Hang on, bro, just hang on.” Bro moves as carefully as he can to the bathroom with D breaking out into sweats every step he takes. His jaw is clenched shut trying to keep everything down, but it’s a losing battle. The world spins even behind closed eyes and he makes the most pitiful sound halfway down the hallway. Bro gives up trying to be careful in favor of speed and dashes for the bathroom. D will have bruises on his knees as Bro shoves him down and into position before he starts to empty his stomach.

Bro forces himself not to gag in empathy at the sound of splashing against the ceramic sides as D heaves again and again to empty his stomach. He feels kinda bad with how much he gave D to drink but knows in the end it will be better. As long as this helps get the rest of the poison out of D’s system, it’s worth it. Bro stays next to him, leaving only briefly to grab a blanket to throw over D’s bare shoulders, as D is sick. He waits through the lulls until D tries to move again and sets off another wave until it’s mostly just dry heaving. Bro uses the sink and a nearby cup to help D rinse out his mouth and give him something to sip on between bouts. D just leans against his brother with his eyes closed, mentally cursing the world, life, and his body. He’s sore all over and his brain feels like mush.

“Ugh.”

“That’s a pretty good way to sum it all up.” Bro’s voice is nice and comforting. He’s been so nice...

“Blarg.”

“That one too.”

“Bleh.”

“You’re just full of great ideas, ain’t ya?”

“Meh.”

“Think you’re done?” Bro asks cautiously as he tries to pet him. But his fingers get caught in the sticky sweatiness. “How in the hell didya get lube all the way into your hair? Fucking jesus on a shit stick. D’ya think ya can manage a shower?”

They both tense up when D automatically nods in answer, but when he doesn’t immediately lunge for the toilet again, Bro takes that as a good sign. He carefully extracts himself, turns on the shower, and quickly strips out of his clothes. By the time Bro gets D to his feet, steam is billowing out. Bro turns down the temperature to something a bit more reasonable before helping D in. Bro holds him up carefully under the shower head as he sways on his feet.

“Why do I have legs? They hurt. Everything hurts. Why do I have a head? It’s trying to explode.”

“Shh, sweetheart. I gotcha. Just relax.”

It’s a quick but gratifying shower that makes them both feel better by the end of it. D keeps his eyes closed for the most part, trying to ward off the dizziness that creeps in the sides of his brain. But he relaxes under the warm water and fuzzy towels and Bro practically cocoons him. They end up in the twin’s room since Bro hasn’t gotten a chance to clean up the futon (hasn’t even had a chance to see if it’s possible). Bro gets him settled and then returns to the kitchen to fill up as many glasses of water as he can carry.

“Bro?” D calls out pitifully.

“Yeah, babe?”

“I need some drugs.”

“No.” Bro’s answer is sharp.

“No, not like that. Not any more like that. Tylenol. Ibuprofen. Something for this fucking headache.”

Bro frowns. He doesn’t know what introducing another drug into D’s system will do. But he supposes that any of the drug that hasn’t pass through his system is now in the plumbing and it’s better to chance the tylenol rather than make his brother suffer a migraine. Especially since his might be bad enough to induce more vomiting and he needs to keep as much water down as possible.

“Fine, just hang tight for a moment.” Bro gets the water balanced and then goes to the medicine cabinet. He face palms himself at the terrible order he did things as he has to unload the water to get to the pills and then pick them up again. He finally gets the water and the handful of pills to D who looks pitiful as fuck tucked under the card suit sheets. His eyes look bruised with how dark they are against his even paler than normal skin. Bro helps him sit up to take the pills and drink a glass of water. Bro starts to pull away but is stopped by D tugging on his sweatpants. The sad puppy eyed look is enough for Bro to lean down and kiss his forehead and promise to come back for more snuggles once he grabs his phone. D nods and burrows into the bed again waiting for Bro to come back.

He’s nearly asleep with a broad warm presence scoots him over for a second and then pulls him on top. Bro’s chest is the best pillow in the world, is D’s last coherent thought before he falls all the way under.

 

**Author's Note:**

> For more information please check out our work at striderclan.tumblr.com; we have more stories, head canons, art/pictures.


End file.
